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#That would have been super frustrating actually so;;

appleblueberry-pie · 2 days

Note

Can can… we reject yan gojo? I actually deeply need it. *shakes head* My spirit guides told me it’s beneficial to my life’s journey. Him just being so down bad and we could never. Gojo is not our type. He’s tall but we aren’t compatible. I want angst, despair, his tears, pleads. Desperation. This would be even juicier if it’s based in like school because now he’s going to have to live out his adult life hoping 😔

This felt more like a regular teenage confession gone wrong.

I imagine waking up to him being at your dorm room door confessing, haha.

You've been up on your phone for like 20 minutes, but it's still extremely early. You're in your pj's and you drag yourself to the door, and he's there in the same state, a guilty smile on his face. You both knew it would happen sooner or later though. Lately, he's been staring at you as if he's gonna explode if he doesn't talk to you. You tried to avoid him, but here he is now.

"Hey, I just.......can I tell you something real quick?" Hands in his pocket as he speaks. You sigh and shrug. ".....Just say it. I don't care."

The things he planned on saying wasn't something that should elicit an "i don't care". He knows you'll turn him down. He lets out a shaky breath before finally rambling.

"I just wanted to say that I have been feeling differently about you lately. Like, I really love to spend time with you and talk with you, it just makes my day whenever you're around-" It felt so unnatural now that he was saying it out loud. And your face was beginning to change into a not-so-good look. "You always talk to me, make me feel included, you just do everything so nicely, I can't like...look away from you sometimes because you're so bright. I just.....I feel like I can be myself when you're there, and I just wanted to say that I feel really attracted to you, and I am in love with you."

"..........................."

He wasn't sure what face you were making. It looked like you wanted to pull a neutral face, but you were also simultaneously surprised and confused and frustrated. He doesn't know. You were still and weren't speaking and he felt like he was going to throw up. So, he kept talking.

"I can't ignore how I feel about you anymore. I wanted to, like, leave you alone, but you taught me to not ignore my feelings and always tell someone about them, so here I am. I don't know if you feel the same way," You didn't. "But, like, everything about you is fucking amazing and I can't just.....look, please just say something." He awkwardly laughed and shuffled in his spot while you kept staring up at him like he had another head. You didn't say a word. He shuffled his hair and pulled at it anxiously and still kept talking.

"I know what you're thinking......but like please give me a chance." Your lip twitched nervously and you took a very small step back, which he, of course, noticed. "I know! I know I'm being weird right now, it's just, like, I could give you everything you want, you know?? Like, I'll pay for your stuff, I could take you wherever you want to go, you like that one sushi place before right?? I can give you all the attention you want, I could- I could, um.....I could like scare off any guys bothering you, I can drive-" No, he can't. "I'll be so good to you, I promise. Please."

You sigh and shake your head. "Gojo...." "What will it take??? I'll do anything, I just really want to be yours, you understand, right??" He backed up a little to give you space and spoke in a low volume not to alert anyone from their sleep since it was still super early. "You're not my type." You just tell him flat out, but he still tries to find any possibility, which you immediately crushed. "Like, at all, Gojo. I don't want anything that you have in my dream guy. I don't want you and probably never will."

It doesn't make any sense to him at all. He just stands there extremely confused. "........what?" "I don't want you, I'm sorry." And you shut the door.

Words can't even explain how he feels right now. He never thought at all at the possibility that he wasn't even anything close to what you desire in a man at all. It just felt so unreal for that to even be a possibility. Was it his voice? His hair? His face? What the fuck was it? Was he not skinny enough? Does he need to gain weight and muscle? He doesn't even fucking know what your type is because he always thought it would be something like him. Now he's entirely lost. What did all of those lost lives and kidnappings mean if you won't even love him?

He doesn't ever want to force you into anything, but even he doesn't know how far he'll take it. He already has a hard time not killing your ex-friends or people you don't get along with. And he definitely can't stop stalking you anytime soon, there's too much to figure out about you. There's too much time that he's dedicated to just you. And it has to all be for a reason, there fucking has to be. He's not loving you for nothing.......does he have to kill more people? Is he going to have to take you by force? He's lost and doesn't like his options.

"Hm."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #jjk #reader #yandere character #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere gojo #yandere satoru gojo #yandere gojo x reader #yandere satoru #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader

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koisuko · 1 day

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Hello!

I'd like to request one of the MK1 boys, with a reader (gn) who's pampered and a bit spoiled. They seem like a brat, but in bed, they're actually super obedient and sensitive. Like, they'd begin crying if they thought they did something to annoy their partner.

You can make it as SFW or NSFW as you want, I don't really have a preference. Thank you! ^^

Npnp! Hopefully you like it ❤️ (doing Kenshi because I love him)

Tw: 18+ nsfw, mdni, blind Kenshi, crying, gn reader, brat reader, sub reader, soft dom Kenshi

Kenshi would roll his eyes if there were some in his sockets. Currently, you sat in front of him, whining about an earring somehow lost during a night out. When you asked him for a replacement pair, he declined, in the most delicate way possible. Yet, that didn’t stop you from feeling a bit frustrated. “That was my favorite pair!” You’d pop out your bottom lip to pout, crossing your arms in a pathetic attempt to persuade him but to no avail.

As of late, you’ve been brattier than ever. He had no idea the cause, or how to get you to tone it down a notch. It wasn’t until a potential culprit reared its head. You two hadn’t been intimate in a while, most of his time being consumed by his job. When he did return home, you’d be fast asleep, or he’d be dead tired from hours on his feet. Kenshi considered your frustration both sexually, and in general with him. It made sense however, with the groans after your advances would be rejected out of sleep deprivation. The way you’d eye him constantly, the lip bites not going unnoticed.

One night, he decided it would be the perfect time to get more intimate. His hands gently caressing the small of your back, lifting your shirt slightly to drag his fingers along your skin. His soft fluttery kisses on your face and lips become slower and longer until it was a full on make out session. Being blind, he appreciated the way you felt, your skin so soft and supple. The way you smelt, like honey and vanilla. And the way you sound, your soft moans and mewls under his touch.

It didn’t take long to get into it together. Kenshi layed flat on his back, his hands gripped onto your hips and waiting patiently. He could feel the heat of your core just inches from his tip. Kenshi wanted you to take your time, and set your own pace as this was all about you. Eventually, you managed to slowly set yourself down, whimpering from the feeling of his cock filling you to the brim. You stopped abruptly when Kenshi hissed, gripping onto the flesh of your hips tightly. “W-what’s wrong, did I hurt you?” Before you realized, tears stung at your eyes and trickled down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- I just-“ you whispered in a delicate and vulnerable tone. Kenshi chuckled, shushing you with a kiss to your lips, “don’t be sorry, I’m just sensitive that’s all.” His clarification settled your nerves just a little, but it didn’t stop the tears from dripping off your chin and splashing on his abs beneath you. His muscles twitched at the sudden sensation, and his thumb instinctually wiped your remaining tears. Safe to say, that didn’t stop the two of you from finishing what you started.

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campbyler · 23 hours

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hey!!!! i am so excited for the new chapter drop, and i just wanted to offer some insight into why people might have gotten frustrated last time with the delays even tho you owe us nothing lol. i think it was about information rather than the fic itself… so maybe instead of pushing the drop day back by one day (repeatedly if need be), a whole week, or two week, pushback at a time could frustrate people less... then if it's ready sooner than that, it'll be a lovely surprise for everyone who wasn't expecting it for another week or two!! plus you guys would be giving yourself like an extra week to chill and finish it instead of the pressure of just 24hrs, (which is nothing what with real life etc) and you could even have a few days off before dropping it if you DID finish it early, cos no one would be any the wiser!

just an idea, that's what i'd do i think and that's how deadline pushbacks often work at my college so i thought i'd share :) hope that's not presumptuous :) you might already be doing this who knows :)

hello hello we are super excited for it as well!! re: your insight — we totally get why people are annoyed by delays, because it definitely is frustrating to look forward to something and constantly have it delayed, especially a little bit at a time and multiple times in a row, so trust me when i say that we fully understand that and wouldn’t be pushing it back by these increments if we didn’t think it would fully be done by a certain time. the 1 or 2 day delays for ch9.2 in particular were 1. made when there were only about one day’s worth of edits left to be made on 9.2, so it was a very reasonable guess to us, and 2. extremely circumstantial and unexpected. thea was very very close to being done but stuff kept coming up, like her being too physically tired after working her shift (her schedule is all over the place usually) to keep editing which she didn’t think she would be, or getting delayed at work for hours, or the one time we got that one anon about ch9.2, thea had been actually and literally swarmed by thousands of people at her job and simply was not in the mood to hear someone complaining about a chapter being delayed by another day or two. there also is something to be said about how we’ve seen people complain or get annoyed when it’s pushed back by a longer period of time in advance, which we have also done, so it leaves us kind of trapped between a rock and a hard place — do we overestimate and have people complain, or do we try to give them shorter term update goals and still have them complain?

we fully get why it’s frustrating and aren’t pushing it back little by little in order to be difficult, but either way, we just don’t think people should be in our inbox vocalizing those frustrations to us. they can even complain in dms to their friends about it, we don’t care! we appreciate the sentiment and the insight and we do try to give reasonable estimates for delays as much as we can, but honestly we just don’t really want to hear if people are annoyed 🤷🏽‍♀️ it’s not helpful or productive to us in any way and we would just prefer it stay out of our inbox and out of our sight overall

#we appreciate the input and you saying it so kindly and trust me we get why it’s frustrating and we never intend for it to be #but at the same time it’s just a fic and you all are reading and enjoying it while we are also trying to balance writing it with Life so #we frankly deserve a lot of grace i think even if people are annoyed #😗#asks

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danganphobia · 3 days

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Laishuro College AU prompt, and notes:

-first note, we’ve seen in casual doodles in the adventurer’s Bible that Toshiro seems to have an eye/interest for art and aesthetics. My gf for this AU is that he knows how to draw people and plants pretty well, but not animals or buildings. -second note, I’m using a chuck of Lokh’s own college AU idea where Laios is actually a online, novel writer on the side.

Toshiro, less interested in the DM campaign than he is staring at his surroundings, especially when said sessions took place at the old Touden House, he’s always looking around at the family pictures and nicknacks. Half-hoping he’d eventually see Falin’s childhood room, though having the sessions there was as rare enough.

So Toshiro isn’t super happy when the opportunity of exploring the home does arise, it’s to help Laios with his part of their assignment. When Toshiro looks around (reluctantly) Laios’ room, he notices all the bugs inside frames, and shelves full of animal parts like feathers and bones. So much so that even Laios notices Toshiro is distracted, and so he shows Toshiro his rarest souvenirs from going around the forest as a kid.

Toshiro is shaken to see a feather with similar patterns and colors as it was described in one of his favorite indie novels. Inside a rusty lunch box was also a few rocks and ores, but that feather stood out. Laios puts it all away before Toshiro can form the right question, a part of him also thinking it could just be a coincidence. The seed has been planted though, and so he can’t help but seeing the other similarities in Laios and the descriptions in the novel. Even notices his style of narration whenever they have a DM session after that.

Just a slow burn of Toshiro connecting dots and felling super frustrated yet enamored by the similarities, while planing to find a way to figure it out without anyone, especially Kabru (bc he would eventually just make fun of him anyways lol) finding out. So he has no other choice… Toshiro is going to have to get Laios all alone to confirm his suspicions and perhaps even… Admit his admiration for Laios work. If that’s all he’s found himself to enjoy about Laios that’s is.

This got my brain juices going. Drabble under the cut.

It never felt like it was the right moment to catch Laios. It was only fair, he was a busy guy outside of club meetings. So, Toshiro decided to do things the old-fashioned way.

When the class they shared together ended, he turned to Laios, opening his mouth to speak, but then he was bombarded by their peers sitting nearby in the neighboring rows.

Realizing that it was yet again not a good time, Toshiro stood from his chair and grabbed his things, leaving the classroom. As students flooded out of the door, someone else came rushing after him.

"Hey! Toshiro!"

Startled by his name being called, Toshiro turned around, meeting with Laios face-to-face again.

"Sorry it took me so long," he panted, catching his breath. "Did you wanna talk to me about something?"

Feeling put on the spot, Toshiro wanted to flee. Then he remembered, he needed to speak to Laios for a reason; a really good one. But he needed more time to gather his bearings about this.

"Can you meet me at the restaurant later tonight?" Club sessions weren't tonight due to everyone's schedules being packed, so they'd have a table to themselves.

"Sure!" Laios nodded. Another friend of his presumably called after him, catching his attention, but he made sure to properly say goodbye to Toshiro first.

Then, it was back to being invisible again.

Later, Laios met him at the restaurant as promised. He was on time, which wasn't unusual, but Toshiro was expecting him to postpone because something had come up.

Toshiro just had a coffee, because he had assignments he preferred to stay up late completing after this. He let Laios order whatever he wanted, though. He even offered to share some of his food with Toshiro, one of which was a gigantic plate of french fries.

Toshiro gave into trying just one, dipping it into the glob of ketchup on the side of the plate. It was incredibly salty, but it tasted incredible.

"Good, right?" Laios grinned. Toshiro smiled back. Okay, here goes nothing...

When Toshiro vouched to change the subject, Laios picked up another fry. "Try another!"

Seeing Laios dangle the salty fry at his face, Toshiro took it from him, taking a bite. Laios' smiled brightly, and then he began to talk to Toshiro about plans for their next campaign.

It was impossible to get Laios to stop when he was on a passionate tangent, so Toshiro let him. He paid for their check, insisting it was his treat and not Laios', and then they left the restaurant. Thankfully, judging by the silence, Laios must've run out of steam.

"Laios," Toshiro began, ignoring his racing heart as he continued. "Do you... do you remember when you showed me your collection at your house?"

Laios perked up. "Oh. Yeah, I do. Why?"

Toshiro stopped walking. Laios stopped a few steps ahead of him, noticing Toshiro wasn't moving anymore.

"That feather I saw in your lunch box," Toshiro said after, "I noticed, that it was also mentioned in one of your novels..."

Laios was quiet for some time, making Toshiro panic, wondering if he said the wrong thing. Then, he heard a chuckle come from the other man.

"So," he started, hands in his pockets as he approached Toshiro. "I'm guessing you figured it out, huh?"

Toshiro could only blink in utter confusion. "What?"

"I thought I was being subtle, well, kinda." Laios said with a bashful smile on his lips.

"I don't-" Toshiro shook his head, frowning. "Understand..."

"You basically just told me you read my novels, only someone that does would know this at all," Laios said, being more direct this time. "I haven't shown anyone other than Falin that feather."

This must mean Laios wanted to show him his collection, just Toshiro, and only him.

"Are you serious?"

Laios laughed, ruffling the back of his head. "Yeah. Y'know, it really makes me happy knowing you like my work."

Toshiro walked past him, pink coloring his pale cheeks, and it wasn't from the cold weather.

"Wait, Toshiro! Where are you going?!" Laios chased after him.

"Far away from you." Toshiro muttered.

"Just hold on a second!" Laios grabbed his arm, shifting in front of him on his feet. "I'm not trying to make fun of you about it!"

"The similarities between you and your writing made me feel like I've gone insane, and I've been keeping this in for weeks and weeks without saying a word about it," Toshiro confessed. When he saw that Laios wasn't reacting, he came to a disturbing conclusion. "How long have you known?"

"Hmm..." Laios hummed, taking his hand off Toshiro's arm. "I just had a feeling, I guess? Besides, you were kind of acting off since then. At first I thought you were freaked out, but that can't be the case. Then there was the possibility you knew about my work. I didn't want to ask you outright. I thought it was a stretch, so I was hoping you'd come to me about it."

There was no reason to try to fight this. Laios had him cornered.

"I'd have to admit, you are a remarkable writer," Toshiro said begrudgingly. "You and your protagonists have some things in common. Brash, insatiable, oblivious, surprisingly perceptive to other's emotions." And those just happened to be the traits that drew Toshiro to Laios in the first place. "But their resolve..." Laios stared at him intensely as he continued, hoping he could ignore his nerves, "is nothing like I've ever seen, I can't believe I'm saying this, I feel as if if they keep going on they could rule the world someday and succeed."

Laios' smile was warm, hearing Toshiro's feedback. "Yeah?"

He was suddenly closer than before, close enough for their lips to touch if he had taken another step.

"Yes." Toshiro whispered, a breath away from feeling Laios' lips on his, a hand on his chest, tilting his head up slightly.

Just as Laios was about to grant that wish, stirring Toshiro's gut, he snapped out of it last minute, stepping away.

"I should, uh, get home-" Toshiro blurted, eyes darting from Laios.

"Oh," Laios coughed, covering his mouth with his palm. "Okay. Sorry, I know you have an exam tomorrow morning. Can I walk you home?"

Toshiro waved his hand. "You don't have to do that-"

"Please." Laios begged, coming closer again. Toshiro stumbled back, because if he were in the same position as he were in before he was going to do something he'd regret in the morning. "Can I?"

Laios was just walking him home - an innocent gesture of kindness he'd been doing for some time now. It shouldn't mean anything, should it? He practically confessed that he idolized Toshiro and how happy it made him to know Toshiro was a reader of his novels. It was sure to affect their relationship in some capacity; but maybe if they pretended otherwise, it wouldn't make things weird between them.

Toshiro nodded. When he walked, he slowed his pace for Laios to catch up. Somehow, their arms couldn't stop brushing on the entire walk back, but neither of them could bring themselves to look at each other, far too embarrassed to.

Who were they kidding, they couldn't be subtle about their feelings on the situation to save their lives.

#dungeon meshi #laishuro #laishuro college au #van writes #asks #HI I REALLY LOVE YOUR WORK I SCREAMED WHEN I SAW YOU IN MY INBOX #i hope i did your prompt justice omg i was thinking long and hard on how to slow burn the hell out of this

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liesmyth · 2 days

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Your jock posting is always super helpful, but I’ve got a question! I’ve been doing couch to 5k for awhile, probably the third time over the course of my life, because I need more cardio and running is the easiest to fit into my schedule because I can just put on shoes and go out the door, you know? I can do 20 minutes of sustained jogging, I just hate every minute. I’ve read about how your pace is supposed to be something that you can sustain a conversation during, but I don’t think there’s a pace slow enough that isn’t a walk where I could do that. Do you have any suggestions? Thanks for your time!

hi hi hi I'm glad I could help! The short answer is that you're fine to keep doing what you're doing, actually! the much longer answer is below

So, you're correct that "conversational pace" is ideally supposed to be your ideal easy run / jog pace, but it's really not uncommon for beginners to not really have an "easy" pace because you feel extremely out of breath even if you're going as slow as you think you possibly can.

Short digression. "Conversational pace" doesn't mean that you should be able to recite poetry fluently — if you can burst out a short sentence or do a decent sing-along to your playlist, that's okay. If all you can do is grunt and say "yes" or "no", even when jogging very slowly, then yeah, you want to be able to eventually build an aerobic base where you can jog and have enough breath left to communicate. It just means that you have a goal to work towards.

Anyway. One thing to keep in mind is that "you shouldn't run any harder than X" is a rule of thumb that's geared towards runners who want to optimise their efforts, whether that's a hobby runner who wants to get faster or an athlete who's stacking up easy miles to rest for the quality workouts. But it's not, like, a hard limit. For most people, there aren't negative consequences to doing high-intensity cardio for 20 minutes a few times a week. If you were training for a 10k and needed to hit a certain (higher) mileage, then the fact that you finish all your runs feeling very out of breath might have been more of a concern, because it would be less sustainable. But if you want to keep training at your current volume, you don't HAVE to change it up if you don't want to. Genuinely, the best exercise is the kind of exercise that's convenient to you, so you can keep doing it consistently. If you keep running those 20 mins every few times a week at the same speed, it will eventually gets easier in terms of effort. Once it starts to feel easier, congrats, you're done! Keep on doing those 20 minutes but enjoy being able to breathe better. Maybe you'll hate it a little less, but even if you don't it'll still be short and convenient, which is what most people want in a workout 💪

IF you want to change it up a bit, you could try doing some intervals. Jog then walk until you catch your breath then start again. Jog then walk briskly. Jog faster then slower. Whichever feels more fun or rewarding to you. You can lengthen the C25k schedule for your purposes if you want to fit in longer walking breaks.

(Another common recommendation you might see online is to go slower. yes. even slower. I KNOW; you're probably thinking "I might as well just walk. I'm going slower than if I was walking." But, actually, the mechanics of running and walking are different enough that it could be worthwhile to condition your body for running if you jog at a glacial pace vs. if you were walking briskly going faster. HOWEVER. In your case. I think it's not really worth it, especially because jogging slow as hell can be quite frustrating and your objective is to make it as painless as possible. So I'm bringing this up for completion's sake in case you want to give it a go but I wouldn't recommend it.)

I hope this helps!

#eameseames #jockposting #ask #runblr

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krackkokichi · 5 months

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you guys are being so unfair to the new VAs just cause you're attached to the old ones. it's unfortunate that they weren't asked to return, but i'm sure there were reasons behind it. especially with a certain someone who, bless his heart, cannot sing (at least in a character voice), which is really bad for a musical show, and probably was a motivating factor in the recasting. instead of harping on the past and bothering the old VAs about it, why can't you just wait to see how things shake out in the show? you could grow to like the new people. we have only a few seconds of dialogue for most of the characters, so don't be so quick to pass judgment.

#its just really frustrating to see so many people say 'there was no reason to replace x' when they dont know what happened behind the scenes #especially with angel. i have listened to addict countless times and while i love it. it is heavily autotuned and its super noticable #i dont have a preference for most of the voices cause tbh most of them sound really similar to me but ive heard blake sing and he's amazing #no hate to michael. he seems really nice but i can see why they decided to recast. and with a couple of the characters #they managed to get the people the original cast was trying to replicate the sound of. which is super cool imo #it would have been nice for some relatively unknown people to make it into the big leagues but tbh hazbin is still super niche #and the big voices help legitimize it as a 'real tv show' instead of just a youtubers passion project #and theyre actually talented too and not phoning it in

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ellemj · 4 months

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Strawberries

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @cherrywinedarling: fuckboy!Bucky, sex pollen.

Summary: Bucky, the man with a long list of girls on his roster, gets exposed to a sex pollen in the field. Will he fuck the first girl he calls or the girl he's wanted for the last two months?

Warnings: profanity, sex pollen (dubcon), fingering, unprotected sex, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.5k

A/N: Special thanks to @cherrywinedarling for submitting such an inspirational (fcking hot) request and coming up with the entire plot of Bucky being unable to get himself off with a random girl, and only being able to get what he needs from reader. Lowkey loved writing this. And thanks as always to @littlemiss-yeehaw for pre-reading and catching some errors.

Twice. No, maybe it was actually three times. Definitely three times. Bucky can remember being exposed to different versions of HYDRA’s sex pollen three times before. Each time was strictly for experimental or torture purposes rather than being done with the intent of breeding super soldiers, but it happened three times, nonetheless. So, this would be number four.

Bucky lets the cool water from the shower faucet splash over his face for a minute before beginning to scrub his skin with a wet, soapy cloth. He tried to tell you that it wasn’t anything to stress over, that he’d keep his distance from the rest of the team on the quinjet and then lock himself in his room once you were all back at the compound, but you insisted on doing things the right way. He didn’t have to take an order from you, but he did. He shot you a frustrated look before making a crude comment and trudging off to the safehouse bathroom to take a shower like you’d told him to.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked for you, don’t keep me waiting too long.” Bucky had said it with a smirk as he stood in the living room of the safehouse and stripped his shirt off with ease. But that smirk was gone the moment he shut himself in the bathroom and turned on the faucet. He’s been through this three times before but it was never enjoyable. It’ll start out as a sort of general discomfort, maybe some body aches and chills as his temperature rises slowly. Then it’ll progress to cardiovascular symptoms: his heart will begin to race, he’ll hear the thumping sound of blood rushing in his ears, his blood pressure will spike. In a normal person, the dangerous spike in blood pressure would be enough to cause a stroke, but Bucky’s vascular system has much more elasticity than a normal person. He’ll be fine. It’s the third stage of the drug’s effects that will really drive him mad. He’ll begin to feel the undeniable urge to fuck.

As you carefully piece together the gun that you’ve just dismantled, cleaned, and oiled, you’re lost in thought. You’ve done enough research over the years to know that HYDRA worked overtime to come up with various chemical compounds that would induce a near primal sexual drive in super soldiers. They wanted a sure way to grow an army of super soldiers over time without having to go through the process of wiping countless minds clean and reprogram them. You almost audibly laugh when you think about the irony of Bucky Barnes being exposed to one of those very sex pollens on your mission today. Bucky Barnes, the man who lately seems to be attempting to catch up on his eighty-something years worth of celibacy, has been exposed to a chemical compound that will make him even more insatiable than he’s already known to be. You have to wonder if he’s secretly thrilled that he has the drug coursing through his veins now.

“You’re not gonna go help your friend out with this?” Sam’s voice rings out from somewhere behind you just as you’re reloading your gun and sliding it into the side holster of your tactical pants. You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you begin packing up the last of your belongings from the kitchen table.

“He’s fucked every girl he’s met since he finished therapy, I think he has a long list of people who can help him out when we get back home.” Though there’s a lighthearted tone behind your words, you’re serious. Bucky’s been a ladies’ man since he stopped seeing Dr. Raynor for mandatory therapy sessions, and not just your average good looking, single bachelor type of ladies’ man. Bucky’s a fuckboy. Sure, he seems to be respectful about it. He doesn’t lead girls on, doesn’t make them think there’s ever a possibility for something more than one or two nights in his bed, and he leaves them all satisfied. But he’s still a fuckboy.

Your words didn’t hurt his feelings. Bucky can’t fault you for being perceptive. He really has fucked almost every girl he’s met in the last couple of months. Hell, he would’ve fucked you too if you’d just given him a chance. That’s how you ended up becoming friends. He tried like hell to get you into his bed shortly after you were assigned to the team and moved into the room next door to his, but you were adamant that you weren’t looking to be a notch on his bedpost. However, instead of telling him to fuck off, you put up with his shit and even seemed to have a good time doing so. So, you ended up being the only female friend of his that hasn’t been tangled up in his bedsheets.

Although your words weren’t necessarily hurtful, Bucky still finds himself a little bothered. He was just about to join you and Sam in packing things up and getting ready to head out when he overheard your conversation and swiftly turned back around, quietly shutting himself in the bathroom once again. You’re right, he does have a long list of people who can help him out when you get back home. God, you’re always right. If he wasn’t so inexplicably drawn to you, he’d probably hate you. But being friends with you is one of the few things that keeps him from comparing his life now to his life eighty years ago. The girl from the bar last week, that’s who he’ll call when he gets home. She was pretty. She had a nice smile, eyes that really drew him in, and she was easy to talk to. She could definitely be the solution to the problem at hand. The more Bucky thinks about her, the more he realizes she sort of reminds him of you. Shit. He’s done that too many times in the past month, brought home girls that seem so familiar but it isn’t until he’s fucked them that he realizes they remind him of you. Why the hell does that keep happening?

---

It’s just an hour later when you’re all arriving back at the compound. Sam excuses himself to go brief Fury and a few other higher-ups on everything that went down during your op, while you and Bucky head for the main tower, each of you ready to unwind in different ways. As you take the elevator up, your eyes wander over to Bucky, who stands to your right. His cheeks are flushed pink, a few stray strands of hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, and he’s rubbing the back of his neck with his flesh hand like it’s sore to the touch. He acted like being exposed to a sex pollen was just another day at work for him, but you know him well enough to know that at the very least, he’s uncomfortable right now.

When the elevator doors slide open to let you both out into the main room of the living quarters, Bucky doesn’t even wait to let you off first like he usually does. He steps in front of you and exits quickly, walking a little faster than usual to get to his room down the hall. Maybe that’s what makes you feel bad for him, or maybe it’s the fact that he feels like he has to pretend like he’s unbothered in front of you and Sam instead of telling you how much it sucks to have such a vile chemical compound wreaking havoc within his body.

“Do you need anything?” You ask softly as you pass Bucky in the hall and near your own door, just a few steps beyond his. The sound of your voice breaks his focus and he drops his keys at his feet. Bucky stoops down to retrieve them and then turns his full body to face you from five feet away. You work on unlocking your own door, but cast a sideways glance in his direction. His usual smirk is notably missing, and a stormy, hard-to-discern look has taken its place.

“If I do, I can call one of the girls I’ve met since I finished therapy.” The words are like ice: cold and jarring, sending a chill down your spine. He overheard you and Sam earlier. You don’t know why you feel like a kid sitting in the principal’s office, not when you’ve teased him over his fuckboy ways for as long as you’ve known him. It shouldn’t have bothered him that much considering it was true. Why do you feel like shit for having said it now? More importantly, why does his response to your question feel like a rejection?

When Bucky steps into his room and shuts the door behind him, you hear him seal himself in with the resounding metal click of a lock. If only he’d known that a deadbolt wouldn’t keep you away.

---

You’ve just finished showering and getting yourself ready for bed when you hear the familiar sound of Bucky’s door opening and closing down the hall, followed by two sets of quiet footsteps heading in the opposite direction. Two sets of footsteps? Bucky must’ve called for one of his late-night guests a little early tonight, to help with his situation. You’ve lived next door to him for a couple of months now and if you’ve learned anything, it’s that the man has stamina. So, for one of his guests to have arrived and left in the short time that it took you to shower and pull on some pajamas, something must’ve gone wrong.

Bucky stands with his back pressed against the cool metal wall of the elevator and his arms crossed over his chest as he mentally kicks his own ass. He couldn’t go through with it. He called the girl from the bar, the one who reminded him of you. He invited her over, took her upstairs to his room, gave her a mind-blowing orgasm with minimal effort, but the moment he heard her cry out his name, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep with her. She sounded nothing like you, not even similar enough that he could’ve imagined she was you.

“Thanks for coming over on such short notice, it was good to see you.” Bucky forces himself to break the silence in the elevator. When his eyes land on the girl standing a few inches to his left, she offers him a genuine smile.

“Of course, I had a good time. I wish you would’ve let me make things even though.” She says, referring to the way Bucky had gotten her off but then briskly offered to walk her back downstairs. He nods slowly, tracing the backs of his teeth with the tip of his tongue.

“Yeah, maybe next time.” There won’t be a next time, not when he’s stuck thinking about how hard it was to imagine the girl being you. A few minutes later, Bucky’s guest is riding off into the night in the car he called for her. He’s left standing in front of the tower, feeling the full effects of the sex pollen as he enters the peak hour of its activity. There it is, that undeniable urge to fuck.

You’re sitting in an armchair by your bedroom window, munching on a bowl of strawberries that you settled on as a late-night snack, when you hear one set of footsteps coming down the hall. It’s the sound of Bucky returning to his room alone. You have to wonder if the sex pollen decreased his stamina. It must have, otherwise his little guest would’ve been here for at least another hour or two. You make a mental note to research that in some of the old HYDRA files tomorrow, out of sheer curiosity. As you sit there in your chair, licking a drop of strawberry juice off of your bottom lip, you can’t help but wonder what the hell Bucky’s doing. By your calculations, he should be experiencing the worst of the sex pollen effects right now, yet he’s alone in his room. You remind yourself that he doesn’t want your help, that he doesn’t need your help. You tell yourself that he probably took care of every urge he had with the girl that he invited over earlier, and then you try to focus on your snack and the TV show you have playing quietly on your TV.

When you hear the distant sound of a pained grunt coming from the other side of your bedroom wall, every muscle in your body goes rigid. You quickly pause your show and set your empty bowl on the small table beside your armchair. Only a few seconds go by before you hear another grunt, followed by the sound of what you surmise is Bucky’s fist colliding with something in his room. Before your mind has a moment to attempt a rational thought process, your feet are carrying you out of your own room and down the hallway to Bucky’s closed door. Your fist is rapping against his door softly at first, knowing he’s awake and you don’t have to be very loud for him to hear you. No answer. You knock again, a little harder this time, hoping he hasn’t stroked out from a spike in his blood pressure. Still, no answer. The third time you knock, you use the side of your fist instead of your knuckles, and you bang on his door so hard that you feel it rattle on its hinges.

Bucky heaves a deep sigh before unlocking the door and pulling it open, knowing you’ll be standing on the other side of it. Just the sight of you has Bucky’s already hard cock twitching in his sweats and he has to avert his gaze, choosing to look over your shoulder instead of right at you.

“I would’ve answered the first time if I wanted to talk to you right now.” Bucky says coldly. A chorus of go away’s play on repeat in his mind as he wishes with every fiber of his being that you’d do just that.

“You didn’t sleep with her, did you?” One look at Bucky’s disheveled state, his messy hair, the sheen of sweat making his chest and abs gleam under the dim lights of the hallway, and the way his breaths are coming in much more shallow than usual, tells you that you’re right. Bucky meets your gaze for a brief second, and his eyes give you the answer his mouth won’t. He didn’t sleep with her. “How bad is it?”

“I’ve been through this before.” Bucky reminds you, running a hand through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut. You’re standing in front of him wearing a pair of gray joggers, a little cropped tank top, and a light cardigan over your shoulders. He knows that tank top well. If the lighting was a little better, he’d be able to see straight through the thin fabric of it. God, he needs you to leave. “Like I said earlier, if I need help, I have people I can call.”

“You called someone and it clearly didn’t help, Bucky.” Just the sound of his name leaving your lips has him biting the inside of his cheek.

“Go to bed.” His tone is authoritative now. But of course, you’d never take an order from him. Especially not when he’s so obviously miserable. Your eyes drift down his torso, taking in the sight of the super soldier that stands before you nearly drowning in a chemically-induced state of arousal. You don’t really know why it pains you to see him like this, why it pains you that he keeps rejecting your help, but you’ve had enough. When you continue to stand in front of Bucky, defying his order for you to go to bed, he drops his hand from his hair and narrows his eyes at you. As you make eye contact with him, an unfamiliar warmth begins to spread along the surface of your skin. Maybe that’s what made you do it, maybe the warmth is what made you start taking your clothes off. You don’t really know what it was, but once you started you knew you wouldn’t stop.

Your fingers begin carefully tugging on the drawstring of your joggers, loosening the tied knot as you look into Bucky’s conflicted blue eyes. You continue watching him as his gaze darts down to the motion of your hands, his eyes widening as he realizes what you’re doing.

“What can I do to help?” You ask the question in a whisper. It’s obvious what you’re offering and it has Bucky’s mind racing. He’s wanted you in his bed since the day he met you, but you never gave in to his chase. He’s sure that you’re only giving in now because you think that he needs you to, because you’re ever the kind, helpful girl next door for him. You’ve finished untying the drawstring of your pants and you’re letting the cardigan slip off of your shoulders, baring even more of your skin to him, when Bucky has to stop you. He reaches out with both hands, catching the soft fabric of your sweater in his hands and pulling it back up to cover your shoulders.

“You can go to bed, that would be really fucking helpful.” Bucky rasps. The fingertips of his flesh hand graze over the skin of your shoulder as he sets your cardigan back in its place, and the contact sends a fresh wave of primal need throughout his body. That wave of need is quickly followed by a horrible ache that forces him to draw his hands back to his sides and clench his fists.

“Bucky, stop rejecting me.” A sudden boldness comes over you and you find yourself placing both palms against his chest and pushing him back into his room. He doesn’t fight you as you take two steps inside and shut the door behind you, letting the room engulf both of you in near-darkness.

“Rejecting you? You’ve rejected me since we met.” Bucky scoffs, falling back to sit on the foot of his bed. He brings his elbows to his knees and lets his head dip down to rest in his hands. He may not be watching you, but he’s listening intently as you strip off your cardigan and drop it in the armchair by his window.

“Yeah, I wasn’t going to sleep with the guy who slept with everyone. But now we’re friends, and I’m not going to sit next door while you suffer through this alone.” Bucky dares to sneak a glance at you through his hands. You’re standing a foot in front of him, now in just your sweats and tank top, with your hands on your hips. God, your hips. He’s imagined holding onto those hips while he fucks you from behind so many times. His eyes flutter closed as he lets out a groan. “Bucky, please.” You saying please in such a circumstance is what breaks him.

When Bucky pushes himself off of the foot of the bed and comes to stand only a few inches in front of you, you take half a second to wonder if you’ve just opened a dangerous can of worms.

“Think about what you’re offering.” Bucky’s voice is shaky, but his gaze is hardened as he looks into your eyes. “This isn’t just some favor between friends.” You stay quiet for a moment as you run through the scenario in your head. You imagine going through with it and having sex with him, fulfilling his needs and lessening the pain that he feels from the sex pollen. You imagine the sun rising in the morning and the two of you pretending like nothing ever happened. Why does that last part make you feel uneasy? The idea of sleeping with him tonight doesn’t seem to bother you in the least, but the idea of going right back to normal tomorrow doesn’t sit so well with you.

“I think it’s better if we don’t think about it.” Without letting another thought through your mind, you grasp the waistband of your joggers and begin pushing them down your thighs. As more and more of your skin is revealed to Bucky, his heart rate picks up and his breath hitches in his throat. When you stand up straight in front of him, with your joggers now lying on his bedroom floor, he has to bite his bottom lip to keep from grabbing you and throwing you down on his bed. You can see the wheels in his mind turning as he overthinks this. It’s the thing he’s wanted since he met you, being offered to him on a silver platter, but he can’t stop thinking about how this could ruin the most real friendship that he’s had since Steve. You do the only thing you can think to do to break him out of his thoughts. You step forward and take both of his hands in yours, guiding them up to your face. When his palms make contact with either side of your jaw, his thumbs are quick to begin caressing your cheeks, as if the gentle touch is instinct for him, as if the two of you have done this countless times before. “I said don’t think about it.”

His blue eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation, but he finds none. So, he takes the leap. Bucky leans in and closes the gap between the two of you, his lips finding yours in the darkness. With the first brush of his lips against yours, your eyes flutter closed and you’re at his mercy. You part your lips to accept him, feeling a rush of heat travel through your body as he sucks on your bottom lip gently. You didn’t expect a kiss from Bucky Barnes to be so gentle. You expected it to be hasty, used as a means to an end rather than for the simple pleasure of kissing. But Bucky kisses like it’s as vital to his being as breathing. His tongue glides along your top lip slowly, feeling his way into your mouth before fully tasting you. As soon as his tongue tangles with yours, he pulls back, his hands still cupping either side of your face.

“You taste like strawberries.” He says, licking his lips as he peers down at you with narrowed eyes. Blush creeps into your cheeks, you can’t tell if he’s saying that as a good thing or a bad thing with the hard-to-read expression on his face. Another lick of his lips and a smile begins to tug on the corners of his mouth. “You taste like strawberries.” He repeats, going back for more. This time, you experience the less gentle kiss that you initially expected from him. He wastes no time in sliding his tongue back into your mouth and letting it work in tandem with yours. As he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his vibranium hand slides down and wraps around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. His flesh hand ghosts over your jawline, along the side of your neck, and then you feel him wrap it around your throat just lightly enough that you notice it. Something about having his hand around your throat sets a fire ablaze inside of you, and before you know it, your hands are flat on his chest. You almost wish he had a shirt on so you could grip onto the fabric and tug him further into you.

Bucky’s losing his mind. He’s losing his goddamn mind because you’re in his bedroom, your pants are on his floor, and you’re kissing him back. You’re kissing him and you taste like strawberries. The longer you let him kiss you like this, with one of his hands wrapped lightly around your throat and the other resting dangerously close to your ass, the more his fuckboy ways start to evaporate right through his skin. Kissing you for thirty seconds makes him rethink his entire lifestyle.

You’re the one to pull back this time, you pull back the moment Bucky shifts his stance and you feel the outline of his fully erect cock pressing against your lower stomach. This time when you part, his gaze is so much softer. As much as you’re enjoying kissing him, you know that’s not what he needs right now. Taking matters into your own hands, you move past Bucky and sit on the foot of his bed. His eyes follow every move you make.

“Are you sure about this?” He has to ask. He has to know that he isn’t taking advantage of you and your friendship before this goes any further. He isn’t so sure he’ll be able to stop once he’s really touched you, so he’s offering you an out now. When you nod, keeping your eyes on Bucky, he lets out a soft sigh of relief. Your eyes follow him as he moves around the bed to the nightstand and pulls open the top drawer. After pulling out a little square packet and dropping it on top of the bed, he looks over at you once more. “You’ll tell me if I’m too rough?”

“I trust you.” You whisper. Bucky’s eyes darken as his pupils dilate even more and he begins walking back to the foot of the bed, coming to stand right in front of you.

“You trust me.” He repeats the words slowly, savoring them. You trust him. He looks down at you with an even mix of lust and admiration, but you only notice the lust. Raising his right hand up, he tucks your hair behind one ear and then traces a line from the point of your jaw to the tip of your chin with his index finger. Bucky curls that finger beneath your chin and tilts your face upward. The way your eyes pierce his, he feels like you’re looking straight into his soul, like you’re seeing every darkened corner within him that he’s tried so hard to hide. Instead of feeling vulnerable, he feels at home under your watchful stare.

Bucky tilts his head to the side and his eyes flit behind you to the expanse of the bed, signaling that he wants you to move back onto it. You do just that, turning over so your back is to him as you crawl further up on the mattress. A soft groan from Bucky lets you know he likes the view already, and you smile to yourself. You always knew he was attracted to you, but having the extra confirmation now really feeds your confidence. You can hear the rustling of fabric behind you and when you turn over once again to lay on your back, holding yourself up on your elbows, you see that Bucky has tossed his sweatpants onto the floor beside yours. Now, you see your friend, standing before you in only a pair of black boxers. Your breath hitches in your throat when your eyes land on the bulge beneath the thin fabric.

“Oh my god, you’re so big.” Your eyes widen and dart back up to meet Bucky’s. Of course, he has a smug smile plastered across his face.

“You couldn’t have guessed that?” He asks, placing one knee on the foot of the bed as he looks you over.

“I never thought about it.” You find yourself staring at it again, but Bucky blocks your view when he starts crawling over your body.

“You don’t have to lie, sweetheart.” Bucky tsks, resting his body weight on you as he leans in and kisses your neck. You find yourself tilting your head to the side to give him more access, loving the way he alternates between licking and sucking your skin. “God, you taste like strawberries, you smell like strawberries.” Bucky grunts against your neck before sitting back on his knees between your legs. “I don’t think I can wait much longer.” He says quietly, analyzing your expression. You study his face for a moment, taking in his flushed cheeks, the way his chest is rapidly rising and falling, and even the way the tips of his ears are turning pink. His blood pressure is spiking.

You push yourself up to a sitting position and without thinking, you tug your tank top over your head, tossing it on the floor and completely baring your chest to Bucky.

“Fuck.” The curse falls from his lips as his eyes devour your nearly naked body. It takes him a few seconds to compose himself and focus. When you start shimmying out of your panties, he moves to stand on the floor beside the bed, squeezing his eyes shut as he takes his own boxers off. He’s worried if he gets one look at you completely naked in his bed, he’ll start cumming and because of the sex pollen, he won’t stop.

“Look at me.” Your voice is too kind, too sweet for someone so willing to be fucked. But Bucky listens, opening his eyes and meeting your gaze. His hand is fisting around his cock within a second, stroking it as he looks not at your body, but into your fucking soul. “You’re supposed to be letting me help you.” You remind him, fighting the urge to look down at where he’s touching himself. Bucky groans again but starts climbing back over you, his hard cock dragging along the skin of your thigh as he situates himself over you but slightly to one side, resting his weight on one elbow.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky presses a kiss to your lips. It’s a kiss he meant to be quick and reassuring, but neither of you could resist deepening it. So, he licks into your mouth once again, loving the way you taste, and you feel his right hand sliding down your stomach. His fingertips ghost lightly over your thigh at first, testing the waters, but you don’t flinch away. He has to make sure you can take him. He knows he’s big, and he has no idea how long it’s been since the last time you were with someone. When his hand ventures between your legs, you spread them without hesitation, continuing to kiss him with a growing desperation. The moment Bucky lets his fingertips glide along your wet folds, he can’t stop himself from rutting against your thigh. “You’re so wet for me, fuck.” A soft hum leaves your lips but it’s quickly transformed into a moan when Bucky applies pressure to your clit and begins to circle the pads of his fingers over it. Sparks of pleasure ignite, urging you to spread your legs even more and break away from his mouth to take in a gasp of air.

“Bucky, you don’t have to—” You’re cut off by your own cry when Bucky abandons your clit and slips two fingers inside of you, sending them only halfway as he watches between your legs. He’s in awe of you. Your back arches off of his mattress and he’s so tempted to kiss and lick all over your breasts, but he can’t ignore the overwhelming ache in his lower stomach and cock for much longer. He curls his fingers against your walls slowly, turning to watch your face this time. He studies you as your eyes scrunch closed and your mouth parts to let a heavy pant past your lips. You look fucking perfect. He knows the longer he delays his own release, the worse he’ll feel physically. He can already hear the blood rushing in his ears and feels the pain throughout his body worsening with every sound you make, but he wants this to be good for you. He needs this to be good for you. So, Bucky begins dragging his fingers out and then pushing them right back in, over and over again. He works you up to being able to take them deeper and deeper until he can’t push them in any more. That’s when he leans into you and leaves light kisses across your right cheek and temple. You find yourself leaning into his touch.

“I can’t wait anymore.” Bucky grunts, as he pulls his fingers out of you slowly one last time. He wants so badly to lick his fingers and taste you, but he knows that if he gets a taste, he won’t ever be able to get over it. He’d spend every day doing whatever the hell he had to do just to get more. Instead, Bucky slides those two wet fingers over the head of his cock, mixing your arousal with his precum and spreading it down the shaft. He gives it a few strokes, letting his head fall against your shoulder as he begins to feel just the slightest bit of relief inside his body. But it isn’t enough. Bucky lets go of his cock and leans over you, reaching across the bed to grab the condom he placed there earlier. When he rolls onto his back and begins tearing the small wrapper open, you take matters into your own hands.

Bucky damn near feels butterflies when you move to straddle him, bracing your hands on his bare chest as you swing a leg over him.

“Just give me a second.” Bucky grunts, his eyes darting between the half open condom wrapper and where you’re lowering yourself down over him. He gets the condom out of the wrapper but freezes when he feels your dripping cunt grind along the shaft of his cock. “Shit, be careful.” He warns you through gritted teeth. You know you really should be careful. Hell, he’s slept with so many girls just in the last month that you should be using any and every form of protection out there. Not to mention the fact that both the super soldier serum and sex pollen really ramped up his reproductive system, increasing his sperm count and motility like crazy. The man could easily save the human race from extinction if he was the last viable male on Earth. But you’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking straight at all when you begin grinding down and circling your hips against him, reveling in the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your clit. You drag your hips back and forth as Bucky’s hands move to grip you there, with the unwrapped condom still in his right hand. You can feel that little piece of latex between his palm and your hip. The thought crosses your mind so briefly, but once the seed is planted, there’s no going back. Feeling the condom all rolled up between Bucky’s hand and your hip is really what planted the seed. You want to feel him inside you, without a damn thing in between. So, you grind along the length of his cock once more, but when you near the tip, you continue sliding forward on it and grinding down until you feel it against your entrance, and then you grind down a little harder, angling your hips just right so it starts to slide in.

“Oh my god.” You moan out, letting your head fall back as you reach down with one hand and start fully guiding him inside of you. Bucky can only watch, his grip on your hips getting impossibly tighter. You’ve only taken in the head of his cock when you still yourself, trying your best to adjust to his ample size. You feel a mix of stinging pain and pleasure, but he did such a thorough job of preparing you with his fingers that the sting is minimal.

“I’m not wearing a condom.” Bucky pants, scanning your face as you slide down another couple of inches. He’s nearly halfway in now and it’s taking every single ounce of his self-control to keep from pulling your hips down and making you take all of it. Your eyes flutter open and lock onto his.

“I know.” You pair your two little words with the act of forcing yourself to take the rest of his length. Your clit brushes against the base of his cock and for a moment, you actually think he might be too big for you.

“Fuck.” Bucky groans lowly. His eyes scrunch shut even though he so badly wants to keep them wide open and memorize the way you look when you’re being fucking ruined by his cock. His balls feel so full and heavy, even more so than usual with the way the sex pollen is screwing up his reproductive system, and the fact that you’re the one he’s balls deep inside of isn’t helping. You really should’ve let him put on a condom, but he sure as hell isn’t going to stop you now. Bucky releases his hold on your hip with his right hand and lets the unused condom fall from his grasp, watching as it lands on the bed. When he digs his fingers into the skin of your hips once more, the sensation spurs you to attempt moving. You start with slow up and down movements, only fucking half of his cock, unsure if you could manage the whole thing at once. But when you get a look at Bucky’s face, at the way it’s contorted with pleasure yet restrained as if he’s holding himself back, you know you need to give him more. So, you take a deep breath and begin lifting yourself off of his cock. Bucky’s eyes follow, so focused on the way you leave his cock glistening as you pull off of it. When only the head is left inside of you, you breathe out as you sit all the way back down. Fuck, it hurts when he’s all the way in but you don’t want to stop. God, you don’t want to stop for anything. You go again, trying the movement a little faster this time, earning a soft grunt from Bucky and a few bruises on your hips as his hold tightens more.

“Bucky, you’re too big.” You finally say, after sliding down onto his length the third time. You want to ride his dick and do as much of the work for him as you can right now, but there’s just no way. There’s no way you can pick up the pace and set a good rhythm when he’s so fucking thick and long that you feel him in your stomach every time you sit down. You don’t have the time that you’d need to adjust, you don’t want to make him wait for you to be ready for it. So, you need a new position. Bucky understands immediately. As much as he was loving seeing you fuck his cock all by yourself, his insides are screaming at him to take control and do whatever he needs to do to get himself off.

Bucky eases you down onto his full length one more time, simultaneously hating and loving the way you cringe once you’re fully seated. Then, in one quick, smooth movement, he captures your hands in his and tugs you down to his chest, before rolling both of you over so he’s on top.

“We can save that for next time.” Bucky promises, positioning himself so that the majority of his weight rests on his forearms on either side of your head. As soon as the words have left his mouth, you realize what he’s just said, but he doesn’t. He leans down and licks your bottom lip while you’re lying beneath him, with his cock motionless inside you, as you remind yourself that there will never be a next time. Bucky’s a fuckboy through and through, you’ve never known him to sleep with the same girl twice, and you can’t imagine anything about tonight is going to change that. “Are you adjusted?” He asks, pulling back from your face to look into your eyes. You bend your knees a little and take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as you focus on your senses. No pain. You nod your head and let your hands ghost along Bucky’s sides.

“Are you always this gentle and thoughtful in bed?” The question sneaks past your lips before you can stop it, but Bucky chuckles as he begins to pull his hips back, sliding his cock out of you inch by inch.

“You think I’m gentle and thoughtful?” Of course he’d take your question as a compliment. Or…maybe not. Bucky shoots you a mischievous look before biting down on his bottom lip and snapping his hips forward, thrusting into you so hard that your back arches off of the bed and your breasts press up against the skin of his bare chest. He took it as a fucking challenge.

“I take it back.” You whine. You dig your nails into the skin of his back hoping to draw a little pain from him, but truthfully, he loves it. He begins slowly dragging his cock back out of you while you’re wondering how the hell he’s still so composed and restrained. “I thought being exposed to a sex pollen would’ve made this a quick, sort of desperate kind of thing.”

“Is that what you wanted?” Another snap of his hips and you’re filled with his cock again.

“I didn’t say that, it’s just what I expected. Does it not make you feel like fucking the shit out of anyone you can get your hands on?” Your fingers dance up his sides until they’re tangled in his messy hair. Another slow drag of his hips and you’re feeling nearly empty.

“It does, but like I said, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me.” He freezes with his cock halfway out of you. Your own eyes widen at your unexpected request. Where the hell did your filter go? You didn’t even mean it the way it sounds, you just meant that you don’t want him to keep holding back for your sake. “I meant—”

“I know what you meant.” Bucky grunts, clearly turned on by the presumed meaning behind your words. He lowers himself down until his body weight feels like a warm, thick blanket covering every inch of your body. He’s giving you what you want. The talking part is over, you realize, as Bucky lets his forehead fall into the crook of your neck and slides his knees beneath your thighs, opening you up for him even more.

Then, he fucks you. He sets a rhythm and pace so desperate and unforgiving that every thrust causes the mattress to bounce you right back up against him. No matter how much he pulls out, you continuously feel the presence of his cock inside you. Every breath he breathes against your neck, every time his lips ghost over your skin, every needy grunt that meets your ears feeds you like a dose of ecstasy. The atmosphere is reduced to the sounds of skin on skin, panting breaths, and obscene curses and moans falling from parted lips. Bucky fucks you more thoroughly than he’s fucked anyone in the last two months. When he hears your moans increase in pitch and your breaths becoming more and more shallow, he drives his cock into you harder and deeper, making sure his name is the only thing on your mind. You give him no warning when your orgasm begins to tear through your body, but you don’t have to. Your cunt grips his cock so tightly that pulling out to thrust into you is damn near painful, so Bucky begins grinding into you, moving his hips in rhythmic circles. When your breaths begin to come a little easier, Bucky’s own release is threatening to spill over, so he starts to slow his hips and pull out of you. He isn’t wearing a condom and he knows this won’t be a small mess by any means.

But you, the girl next door, the girl who tastes like fucking strawberries, you slide your hands down and grab his hips every bit as harshly as he grabbed yours earlier, and you pull him further into you. An orgasm hits him like a fucking freight train. It wasn’t even the sensation of being inside you that sent him over the edge, as heavenly as that was. No, it was the fact that you wouldn’t let him pull out. The fact that you didn’t even let him wear a condom. The fact that you’re you and you’re so desperate for his cum that you’d hold him there and take it like you had a right to. After three seconds, Bucky’s surpassing a normal amount of cum, and both of you are fully aware of it.

“It won’t stop, fuck.” Bucky groans against your neck as he slowly ruts into you, trying to get himself through his orgasm. “There’s so much cum.”

“That’s okay, it’s okay, Bucky.” You whisper, moving your hands back up to his head and carding your fingers through his hair. “I can take it.”

Shit. He might be in love with you.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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unkreativstermensch · 7 months

Text

"Still super jealous as hell by the way.“

"Okay, now, can you…get outta my face?“ Steve annoyedly swats a hand at Eddie’s chest and ducks out of his space.

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you-" He purses his lips, thinks. "You don’t…you still don’t like me very much, do you?"

At that Steve stops walking, huffs out an annoyed breath and presses his eyes closed. He turns to Eddie, looks at him with an expression Eddie can’t read and says, "No, Eddie. No, I don’t."

Eddie just watches him for a second, not sure what to do, studies his face, the furrow between his brows, the clear discomfort in his expression.

He scoffs. Getting a little angry. "Jesus, man,“ he says. "You just can’t get over it, huh? And here I was rambling on about how you were actually a good dude after all, but…no, turns out Steve Harrington is still just as much stuck in his stupid high school mindset as I would have thought.“

Steve just looks more annoyed now, a slight shift in his eyebrow and…he looks…frustrated? A little? How does that make sense?

"You,“ Steve says, voice low, but not because of the monsters, Eddie knows that much, "are unbelievable.“

Eddie blinks. "What?“

"Eddie, you’re the one who can’t get over it,“ Steve accuses him. "You always talk about that non-conformist shit and how people should just stop with the categories and drawers and labels but, dude, you’ve never judged people that way yourself! I have been saved in your brain as this dumb idiot jock ever since you’ve known me and…“ Steve huffs out an unbelieving breath. "And Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you…but you’ve never been nice to me. Ever. And when Lucas made the basketball team, which is amazing, by the way, you weren’t proud of him or supported him for that incredible achievement like you should have if he’s really one of your 'little sheep‘.“ He draws quotation marks in the air. "You punished him for it. You said you can’t make Hellfire? Fuck you. I’m just gonna have the most important part of the campaign without you, because you know what, you don’t deserve us anymore now that you’ve joined the dark side. Now that you’ve taken up a…a jock game. Because god forbid, somebody could actually ever enjoy playing sports.“

Eddie can’t follow. His mind’s lagging behind, still stuck on Steve apparently knowing DnD terms and saying he was never nice to him and-

Steve takes another step back.

"Eddie, for as long as I can remember you hated me. And yeah, sure, I was stupid and I did some stupid things, but…“ he shrugs one sided. "But I don’t think I deserve to be treated that way. I think I at least deserved a chance. And you never gave me one.“

Eddie blinks. "What do you mean I never gave you a chance, I-"

"Biology, sophomore year,“ Steve interrupts him. "We were assigned lab partners. I tried to really…put all of it aside, tried to get to know you, because actually, Eddie, you know what? I was sort of obsessed with you. Because you were so…loud and so unashamedly yourself, I admired you so much. You didn’t care about anything and you stood up for yourself and that’s something I’ve never been able to do, my whole life. I…“ Steve looks down, sighs a little. "I let people push me around because it’s the only way I feel like I can be of use. But you…you made me believe that maybe actually I…could do it, you know? Like, tell Tommy H. off or something…“ He looks so hurt. Eddie kind of wants to die. "But you…you acted like it was the worst thing ever, getting partnered with me. You didn’t even look at me. You…never gave me a chance, Eddie. So…sorry if one 'you’re actually a good dude, Harrington' doesn’t make me forget all of that, make up for it. Because I’m not so sure I believe you.“

Oh.

Oh no.

Eddie fucked up.

#Steve is so wrong about what made eddie act like that #my boy had a crush #a bad one #steddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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